My Parents Run a Pot Dispensary

After years of fighting for the legalization of marijuana, Cheyenne Fox and her parents were thrilled when Amendment 64was passed in 2012, making their home state, Colorado, among the first to allow pot to be sold legally for recreational purposes. This also meant the family's Denver-based business, 3D Dispensary, where Cheyenne, 21, is currently general manager, could shift from selling only to customers with state-approved diagnoses to anyone who likes to get high. Currently, 20 states have medicinal marijuana laws, but Cheyenne, who will graduate with a BA in marketing this June and plans to grow the family business, hopes every state follows Colorado's lead.

Advertisement - Continue Reading Below

I grew up in a cannabis-friendly household. Since I was 5, my house smelled funny, and my parents were always happy. My dad has used it medicinally since the early '80s. He was in a bodybuilding competition and broke a disk in his back. Doctors wanted to fuse it together, which meant possibly never walking again. My dad decided against the operation and started using cannabis for pain relief. My stepmother has used it as a mild anxiety reliever for years now. For her, it is the best way to unwind at night. So both wanted to open the dispensary. My stepmom had a prior business before, selling custom waterfalls, so she's the CEO, whereas my dad is a consultant. He has a Ph.D. in horticulture and oversees all the growing.

3D opened in August 2010 and started selling to patients with red cards, a state-approved identification. I turned 18 two months prior, and though I can't remember my first drink or my first kiss, I will always remember my first joint. My parents didn't want me to smoke until I was 18 — that was a rule in our house, which was easy to stick to. There was no stigma around marijuana — it was never "don't do it!" It was "do it safely and respectfully." So the day after my 18th birthday, I said, "I want to smoke weed." My dad gave me a joint and said, "Don't drive!" I took two hits and felt very giggly and happy. Instead of being couch-logged, I cleaned my entire room and did all the dishes. My parents were thrilled. That summer, I realized that marijuana actually calmed me down and helped me focus. I have scoliosis, which was aggravated by a car accident I was in at 14, so I used back pain as the reason for getting a prescription. But I really wanted it for what I consider low-grade anxiety.

Advertisement - Continue Reading Below

I started working at the dispensary as a budtender when I turned 21 last June. That's when I started to learn about marijuana's wide range of medicinal uses — I met people with cancer, MS, AIDS and glaucoma as well as those who suffered from nausea and anxiety. One woman weighed 96 pounds despite her 6-foot frame when I first met her. She was addicted to Percocet and wasting away. But after several months taking a combination of THC, found in marijuana, and other herbs, she's Percocet-free and back to her normal weight. Another client of mine is a 62-year-old grandmother and realtor who buys pre-rolled joints weekly and smokes them every night to wind down. I relate! I don't drink coffee, but I will have a couple of hits to wake up. Then I usually smoke that same joint throughout the day to keep me calm and focused. This helps on my especially busy days.

Currently, I'm at school Monday through Thursday from 9:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. and then work 1:30 p.m. to 7 p.m. I work from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays, though it doesn't feel like work. I love what I do and feel honored to be at the forefront of an industry that I believe will change the world. Everyone who works at 3D feels this way.

Things have changed radically since we shifted from medicinal to recreational use sales. On our best days as a medical dispensary we serviced 25 to 30 patients and made up to $2,500 a day. Our first day selling recreationally, we served 419 people and made $46,000. Now we average 300 customers daily with sales of $25,000 to $30,000 a day. As a result, we had to hire four more people last week alone — including my best friend — bringing us to a total of 25 employees.

As general manager, I do a bit of everything. Some days, I'm a budtender, which means meeting with customers and explaining all the different strains we sell. Every plant has a distinctive taste, smell and effect. I learned a lot from my dad, but when I started working as a budtender, whenever I encountered a new strain, I'd take it home to smoke and then take notes about how it tasted and how it made me feel. We have all the strains in small sample jars so customers can smell them. Agent Orange is my favorite — it smells like you just peeled an orange and is very sweet on your tongue. Golden Goat, another one I like, tastes like cotton candy. Some taste like peanut brittle, others like grapes. We used to grow everything on site. But since we shifted to a recreational seller, we can't keep up with capacity. In Colorado, there's a 30/70 rule. You can sell 70 percent of your product from a wholesaler as long as it's all purchased from an in-state grower.

Advertisement - Continue Reading Below

I keep track of all of that with the state-mandated Marijuana Inventory Tracking System (MITS). It is the first system of its kind in the United States, so we're the guinea pigs. The government wants to know every seed we have planted, what stage it is in (clone, vegging or flowering) and when it's harvested. Then they want to know how it's packaged — edible? Pre-roll? Hash? I have to input every stage of that process into the MITS program including on what date it was sold and at what price. This helps prevent black-market sales, as if 15 pounds is suddenly missing from a harvest, the system knows.

When I tell people what I do, they're mostly impressed. I help run a legitimate and lucrative family business and carry business cards and matches in my purse. I often wear the 3D shirt and have a sticker on my car. I'm a walking billboard. Just this past week on campus, eight people asked for cards, four asked for jobs and one asked me to marry him. As for my extended family, my 89-year-old grandma likes to say, "She's not doing anything wrong now that it is legal!"

I really believe that legalizing pot for recreational use will make this country a better place. I spent a week collecting names for the Prop 64 ballot and got 10 pages of signatures. I use the "It's safer than alcohol" point, which is especially true for women. People don't black out when they smoke. And if they do, they're rarely violent. The statistics around sexual assault and alcohol are staggering. In fact, when I was collecting signatures, I'd ask women, "Have you ever known someone who has been sexually assaulted?" If I saw tears well up, I knew the answer and asked if alcohol was involved — 100 percent of the time it was. I like to have a drink every now and then, but more for the taste than the buzz. Alcohol is dangerous — it affects inhibition and judgment.

Advertisement - Continue Reading Below

I was so happy when Prop 64 passed — for the business, but more so for the cause. But the reality of what that meant didn't hit me until January 1, 2014. I didn't go to sleep the night before because I was at work until 4:30 a.m. getting ready for the big day. I went home to shower and then returned at 6:30 a.m. Over 100 people were waiting in the parking lot for us to open.

I'm so glad I did not wear mascara that day, because I cried pretty much the whole time. My parents and I had worked so hard for this moment, and the fact that we were actually one of the first businesses to sell recreational pot in the history of the United States still makes me teary.

It was 20 degrees outside and snowing, and not one person complained, even though we had to turn away another 500 at the end of the day. Instead, what stands out was how happy people were. Every time a customer left the facility with marijuana, the crowd erupt in cheers and applause. We could hear it throughout the building. At one point, I walked around the parking lot and counted 47 license plates. When I asked people on line where they had come from and why, one guy in his 60s told me had driven 18 hours. I asked why, and he said, "Freedom."